Hey, guys. I know I should be writing the next chappies for The Bet and Just the Girl, but I couldn't resist writing this oneshot. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Nothing. Again. Wow, this is depressing.


The velvety ceiling of the Hogwarts Great Hall was dotted with glowing stars as the moon cast a silver, almost mystical light on the stool that was set in the middle of the platform at the front of the hall. The chatter of the students filled the room, but when a strict-looking woman stepped onto the platform, a hush overtook the hall. The students of Hogwarts knew better than to anger Minerva McGonagall.

Professor McGonagall reached out to place a ragged, ancient hat on the stool. At first glance, it appeared to be nothing but a ratty piece of black cloth with various patches of random fabric, but closer inspection revealed a line directly above the brim. The line stretched open and, to the surprise of the crowd of first-years huddled in the corner of the platform, burst into song.

I may appear to be old and worn,

But that is not all I be

I am the Sorting Hat of Hogwarts,

A legend, you will see

Every year I am set down

On this wooden stool

For it is my ancient duty

To sort students in this school

First of all there is Gryffindor,

Where the brave and strong are sent

Next there is Ravenclaw,

Where the witty and smart are meant

Thirdly there is Hufflepuff,

For those quiet as a mouse

Lastly there is Slytherin,

The cunning and quick end up in this house

So set me on your head

And soon, you shall see

Your future at Hogwarts school

Is all up to me!

The mouth of the hat closed as the hall erupted into enthusiastic applause. In the corner of the platform, a boy with very messy jet-black hair and glasses leaned towards the dark-haired boy next to him.

"Does it always sing?"

"From what I hear, yes. But Merlin, you'd think they'd get a new hat after the first thousand or so years…"

Professor McGonagall pulled out a scroll and began to read off names. One by one, the first years were sorted into their houses.

"Black, Sirius!"

The dark-haired boy took a deep breath, sat on the stool and placed the hat on his head.

"Well…what do we have here?"

Sirius jumped as a voice drawled in his head.

"Another Black. I know just where to put you."

Say Slytherin and they're gonna need a new hat.

"Temper, temper. Ahh, I see…you are not like your family. I remember sorting your father, your mother…proud Slytherins. But not you… I know just where to put you.

Gryffindor!"

Sirius heard the last word shouted across the hall, and he almost fell off his stool in surprise. He looked over at the table of green and silver to see a teenage girl with dark hair and heavily lidded eyes gaping at him. Sirius grinned and raised a triumphant hand in the air.

"GRYFFINDOR!!!!"

Professor McGonagall rolled her eyes as the table of red and gold burst into applause.

"Take your seat, Mr. Black."

Sirius made a face, but loped over to the Gryffindor table, grinning from ear to ear. The sorting continued. After Davies, Sam was sorted into Ravenclaw, Professor McGonagall called off the next name on the list. A girl with flaming red hair nervously made her way to the stool, unaware of the hazel eyes that watched her every move. She placed the hat on her head and waited.

"Ahh, a muggle-born. Very bright, I see. There's a fire in you, I can see that as well. Hmm… I know… Gryffindor!"

The girl set the hat down and happily seated herself at the Gryffindor table across from Sirius. Again, the sorting continued. After Leeson, Thomas came Lupin, Remus. A pale boy with sandy-colored hair placed the hat on his head, squirming under all of the eyes on him.

"Oh, a werewolf! Interesting, interesting. Dumbledore must trust you. Intelligent, quiet, responsible. There's more to you, though, isn't there? Yes, I know…Gryffindor!"

The boy leapt to his feet, ran over to the Gryffindor table and sat beside Sirius, smiling shyly at Lily. She smiled back, then turned to watch the sorting. After Peterson, Diana was sorted into Hufflepuff came Pettigrew, Peter. A small boy with a pointy nose scurried over to the stool and jammed the hat over his ears, shaking slightly.

"Oh, you're an interesting one, aren't you? A family that doesn't believe in you, hand-me-down clothes. A thirst to prove yourself, but a fear of being put down. I know where to put you…Gryffindor!"

After Peter had set the hat down, Professor McGonagall called off the next name on the list.

"Phillipa, Leila!"

A slim girl with waist-long, shining blonde hair placed the hat over her head.

"Ahh, a veela. But not the usual veela, eh? A great interest in animals, I see. Brave, humorous, but with a quick temper. I know just where you'll fit in…Gryffindor!"

Leila dropped the hat on the stool and went to join Lily, Sirius, Peter and Remus at the Gryffindor table, beaming.

"Potter, James!"

The messy-haired boy pushed his glasses up his nose and walked over to the stool. The hat seemed to smile at him.

"Arrogant, I see. Very sure of yourself. A kindness, though, a will to help others. Stubborn. This is an easy one. Gryffindor!"

James sat between Sirius and Remus, eyeing Lily. She gave him a stay-away-from-me-you-psycho-stalker look and turned away. Leila caught James's eye, her eyes dancing with badly-suppressed laughter.

"Snape, Severus!"

James's head shot up. He looked up just in time to see a boy with pale, waxy skin and a hooked nose set the hat on his greasy black hair. It had hardly touched his head when it shouted out:

"Slytherin!"

James exchanged a look with Sirius. He disliked Snape immediately.

In ten minute's time, Zowner, George had been sorted into Ravenclaw and Professor McGonagall rolled up the scroll, picked up the hat and stool, and carried them off the stool. Professor Dumbledore stood from his seat at the head of the staff table, spreading his arms out wide in welcome.

"Welcome, one and all, to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. There are a few start-of-term notices, but I doubt any of you would be able to hear me over the rumbling in your tummies, so now, we feast!" Dumbledore seated himself, his periwinkle eyes twinkling.

James heard Lily gasp, and he turned to see the table filled with every kind of food he could think of. Sirius was already piling his plate with a mountain of everything in reach. With a wide grin, James grabbed his plate and began to spoon mashed potatoes onto it. In a few minute's time, everyone had begun to eat. Leila took a sip of her pumpkin juice, and then smiled at the boys.

"I'm Leila, as you already know." Her voice held the slightest trace of a French accent. Out of the corner of his eye, James saw Sirius stop shoveling food in his mouth, swallow (miraculously, considering the amount of food in his mouth) and smile back at her.

"Sirius Black. You French?"

Leila nodded. Lily turned to her, her brow furrowed.

"If you're French, why aren't you at Beauxbatons? Or do you not live in France?"

"Oh, no, I do live in France. I don't go to Beauxbatons because they don't allow girls to play Quidditch."

Sirius's eyes lit up.

"You play?" He asked excitedly.

"Yup, seeker. You?"

"Beater, and James here plays Chaser."

James jumped, unaware of the change of topic. He had been too busy staring at the redhead across from him to notice. Lily squirmed uncomfortably.

"What?"

"What what?"

"Why do you keep looking at me?"

"I don't!" James said quickly, his face catching fire.

"Yes, you do!"

"No, I-"

Remus cut him off.

"So, Lily, have you read the History of Magic book yet? What did you think of the goblin war of 1264?"

Lily's eyes lit up and she began a rapid explanation of Harold the Something-Or-Other as James sent Remus a grateful smile. Remus smiled back, and then turned his attention to Lily. James leaned back in his chair, taking a sip from his goblet as he surveyed his surroundings. Peter had joined Lily and Remus's discussion of History of Magic as Leila and Sirius bickered good-naturedly about the best broom on the market. James let out a deep, content sigh and set his goblet down. Something told him Hogwarts had a lot in store for him and his new friends.


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